


Gaia Octavia Iera

by pr_squared



Category: Gor Chronicles - John Norman
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 12:36:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11357637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pr_squared/pseuds/pr_squared
Summary: A tale of Amaranthis.  Lady Gaia Octavia Iera returns from a day in the woods





	Gaia Octavia Iera

Tulla stopped for a moment and watched the brawny male lift two heavy sacks from the wagon and carry them into the kitchen. Naked, Warrior perspired profusely under the hot midday sun. He had worked diligently and long. Despite his labors, the wagon was still two-thirds full. He passed inside, deposited his massive load and quickly trotted back to the yard to fetch another pair of heavy bags. Tulla dobted she could carry one. White flour stuck to his broad chest and flat belly leaving a comical white stripe down his front. 

“Hey Martis,” Tulla greeted Martis, whom she had set to supervise the yard.

Martis smiled and gestured toward Warrior with her chin. “Days like this make me glad we have boys for this kind of work.”

“Didn’t I give you two boys for this job?”

Martis rolled her eyes. “Marcella had other plans for Castor after lunch.”

“Well, the young mistress wants her Warrior to attend her tonight, whenever she gets home from her damned forest outing.”

Martis shook her head. “If I had my druthers, I’d sure pick someone younger and prettier.”

“Well, the Lady Iera asked for Warrior – by name.” Tulla departed with no further comment.

“Warrior!” Martis barked.

Warrior stopped. The large sacks were heavy in his tired, aching arms. Confused, he turned, uncertain whether to drop the heavy sacks and kneel as protocol required.

“Stand easy, boy,” Martis continued, pleased at her command of the larger, older male. “Lady Iera wants you to attend her tonight, you of all the boys in her kennel!” She shook her head doubtfully.

Warrior smiled. Perspiration ran down his muscular neck and under his brass collar. The thick muscles of his arms and shoulders were certainly impressive.

However, his too obvious happiness annoyed Martis. The musky scent of his perspiring body irritated her also. “Don’t be too pleased with yourself. You still have to unload the damned wagon. You’d better hurry. You’ll need some time to get yourself cleaned up for the Lady. Get your stinking carcass back to work.” Self-satisfaction is never becoming in a male.

A single flickering candle illuminated the Lady’s chamber. Warrior knelt and waited. The hour grew late. Warrior closed his eyes and sank gently into a quiet reverie. While curiosity is never becoming in a male, patience always is.

Lady Gaia Octavia Iera swept into the room with Erce trailing closely behind. Erce darted around her mistress and grabbed the lone lit candle carefully. She lit a second, third, and fourth candle with the first. Iera saw Warrior and smiled. She patted his head and stroked his cheek fondly. “Erce, go to bed. My Warrior can attend me.”

Erce shook her head and left her mistress to her own devices. She moved only a few paces down the hall though; so that she would be near at hand should her Lady call her.

Warrior went down on all fours and brushed his lips on his Lady’s booted foot.

“You’re smearing the polish,” the Lady objected and pulled her foot back. “Here, help me disrobe.” She stood unsteadily with her arms outstretched. “My hair is a real mess.” The day’s riding through the woods had taken its toll. Her beautiful hair was her pride and joy. At dinner, the wine from Kos had been delicious. She rubbed her head, obviously feeling the effects of the wine. She drew her hand away clutching leaves and twigs from her day in the forest. “I knew this would happen.”

Warrior scrambled to his feet and helped his Lady with her riding clothes. With clumsy fingers unused to such delicate tasks he worked the fastening of her elaborate dress. Carefully, he hung her finely made garments in their armoire. Soon, except for her boots, the Lady stood in her small clothes, almost as naked as her slave, though none might doubt who commanded and who obeyed. 

Warrior helped her sit at her dressing table. Tired and a bit inebriated, Iera sat heavily though not totally without grace. Turning his back to his mistress, he brought her booted leg between his brawny thighs and helped her with her stubborn riding boots. 

Iera looked up and smiled. She admired the breadth of his shoulders and the strength of his back. She ran her finger down his spine and between his muscular buttocks.

Warrior ignored the distraction and wrestled off her boots. He turned to face his mistress. 

She gestured with her chin and Warrior knelt. He took her small feet in his large powerful hands and massaged the tired bones and muscles skillfully. 

Then Iera handed Warrior her ivory brush and closed her eyes. Warrior stood and brushed out her thick dark hair with long, steady strokes. At first, her many knots and tangles interrupted his rhythm. More than once, he pulled and she yelped her discomfort. More than once, he stopped to pick leaves and twigs from the bristles of the brush. Warrior carried bravely on and eventually regained his rhythm as the knots and tangles pulled free.

Iera reached out and toyed with the golden ring that pierced the neatly trimmed head of his cock. Playfully, she cupped his heavy balls in her palm but could not distract him from his task. His body responded massively to her provocation, but Warrior ignored her taunts and kept focused on his charge. Iera chuckled. Many offered compassion for the insolent slave who dared to find his lady attractive. More pitiful yet was the fate of the slave who let his mistress know he found her without significant appeal.

Warrior brushed Iera’s thick hair. He felt an urgent longing in his loins. He wondered how her soft breasts might feel against his cheek. Her graceful neck and shoulders moved him to his core. Her slightly rounded belly made it hard for him to breath. Her small clothes concealed the secret place between her thighs. He swallowed his unrequited longings and continued at his assigned task with diligence.

After a time, Warrior’s powerful strokes returned Iera’s raven hair to its usual luster. It seemed to out-glowed the bright candles that illuminated the room.

“Enough!” Iera said holding up her hand. She studied her image in the mirror carefully, shook out her locks with vigor and studied her image once again. “No one brushes my hair like you, my Warrior,” she sighed. His strong arms were not without value. Her fatigue was now telling. She looked to her bed with its fine, thick mattress and rich eiderdown comforter, and pillows.

Warrior basked in her praise. He was tired too. His day had begun well before dawn. He looked at the Lady’s plush bed too, so different from the hard planks where the slaves slept a finger’s breadth off of the cold ground in the kennel on thin mats somehow still lumpy.

Iera stood suddenly and Warrior dropped quickly to his knees. Iera always insisted on proper protocol. She padded over to her bed and looked back at her slave. “You can stay the night,” she said with a rush of generosity but then saw him eyeing her rich beddings. She shook her head and chuckled. She was truly fond of him, but his insolence knew few bounds. “You can sleep in the bed tonight. I’ll sleep on the floor.”

Warrior looked at her, utterly and absolutely confused.

Iera laughed. She was thoroughly pleased with her effect on the male. One might have thought that she had been too tired or too inebriated for wit. “Just put out the candles and you can sleep over there,” she pointed to the rug beside the bed. “Back to the kennel with you at sunrise. I’m certain Tulla will have some new chores for you tomorrow.” Likely, the hour was already well past midnight. Not one of her males or any of her girls could brush her hair like her Warrior.

In moments, the Lady Iera was fast asleep. Warrior fell asleep soon thereafter.


End file.
